


What a wicked game to play

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fights, Married Couple, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-25 14:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Grant comes home to his wife rearranging furniture in their apartment, and that alone is a very bad sign.The meter moves from ‘Bad day’ to ‘Horrible day’ when he closes the door behind him, pretty audibly, and Jemma doesn’t even glance in his direction. She then proceeds to brutally beat up a pillow under the pretence of fixing it up on the couch, and at that point the meter in Grant’s head goes straight to ‘Everybody just run’.





	What a wicked game to play

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt: [115\. “I don’t need anger management. I need people to stop pissing me off.” + Biospecialist](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/180763778779/i-dont-need-anger-management-i-need-people-to).

 

Grant comes home to his wife rearranging furniture in their apartment, and that alone is a very bad sign.

The meter moves from ‘Bad day’ to ‘Horrible day’ when he closes the door behind him, pretty audibly, and Jemma doesn’t even glance in his direction. She then proceeds to brutally beat up a pillow under the pretence of fixing it up on the couch, and at that point the meter in Grant’s head goes straight to ‘Everybody just run’.

“I think we need to work on your anger management,” he jokes, dropping his bag on a cupboard that he’s pretty sure wasn’t there when he left the apartment. Did she move it by herself?

This time, Jemma raises her eyes on him, but only to glare. “I don’t need anger management. I _need_ people to stop pissing me off.”

Grant has a pretty good idea of what it is that set her off like that, but he also happens to have what’s called ‘self-preservation instinct’ – although his wife would argue that point ‘til her last breath –, so he isn’t going to say a word about it until she brings it up on her own.

Instead, he walks up to her to hug her from behind and place a kiss on her temple. She relaxes a little against him, holding onto his arm with both hands, so maybe she isn’t _that_ far gone.

“Tough day?” he asks, quietly.

“They won’t let me go in the field,” she complains, as expected. “I mean, I don’t _get_ it,” she adds, more forcefully, shifting in his arms so that she can face him. “I _know_ I am an asset, why wouldn’t they want me in the field?”

“Because you are not qualified?” he can’t help suggesting.

Jemma glares at him. “I could get a certification, you _know_ that. They wouldn’t even let me _try_. Some bullshit about how I am ‘needed here’.”

He calls upon his training to maintain a poker face, and in his defence he’s positive that it would have worked on _anybody_ else, but Jemma knows him a little too well for comfort right now. He isn’t sure what it is that she managed to catch as he tried to come up with an innocent reply, but her eyebrows immediately furrowed.

“Grant,” she says, slowly, in the careful tone that doesn’t mean anything good, ever. “Do you have anything to do with this?”

Dammit.

“No, of course not,” he replies, not too fast, not too slowly. It’s a _credible_ lie, alright? It’s not his fault if trying to sell it to his wife is a fool’s errand.

“Grant!” she protests, pulling away by placing both hands on his chest and pushing just enough to make him take a step back. “Did you do something to keep me here?!”

“I _didn’t_!” he insists.

And, well, _technically_ , he didn’t. John sure did, though. Upon his request. But _he_ is squeaky clean.

Jemma doesn’t buy it, of course.

“I can’t believe you!” she yells, getting away from him altogether to start pacing around. He swears that her head is about to start fuming. “Actually, scratch that, I absolutely _can_ believe it, I _knew_ you had taken my decision too well—”

“Listen, Jem—” he tries to soothe her, raising both of his hands, but it doesn’t work.

“Oh, shut up!” she interrupts him. She takes a sharp breath, her hands on her hips, then she turns around to face him, starting at his face she’s trying to melt it off by sheer power of will – she might just manage it: she’s _really_ pissed off; he was kidding about the anger management, but maybe it wouldn’t be such a bed idea, after all.

“You are going to undo whatever it is that you did,” she warns, pointing an accusing finger one inch from his nose. “And you are going to do it _now_. Then I’m asking again to be allowed in the field, and this time they’d better let me take the test, at least.”

“Baby, I didn’t do anything,” he protests, again.

“Then you tell _John_ to undo what he did, _dear_ ,” she hisses.

Before he can answer, she has turned her back on him, headed straight for their bedroom. He moves to follow, but she promptly slams the door behind her. As he contemplates following anyway and trying to work it out, she decides to lock it as well.

Okay, then.

 

Jemma is good at the silent treatment.

Granted, their routines are pretty full anyway, and getting some time alone is often problematic, even if he isn’t currently employed on missions that last longer than a day, so it’s not _that_ easy cross off their quality time together from their to-do list.

Still, it bugs him.

When he tries to approach her, to apologize and explain, although he’s quickly losing any hope that he had of talking her out of it – it wasn’t too smart to consider it a possibility in the first place, because _he_ is stubborn, but Jemma is possibly _more_ stubborn –, she easily avoids him, blowing him off, cutting him short or straight up not responding and walking away.

If she gets home first, she’ll be pretending to sleep by the time he’s home. If he tries to move to her side of the bed, she’ll let him, but it’s like holding a dead fish.

If _he_ gets home first and waits up for her, she’ll barely look at him when she gets in.

He’s got the message: no fixing this unless he goes to John and asks him to undo what he did. Grant knows that he isn’t going to be too happy, considering that he did it as a favour, but at this point he doesn’t think he has much of a choice, short of waiting it out and hoping that Jemma will just resign herself to the idea that she just won’t get out of that lab – and she _shouldn’t_ , dammit, she shouldn’t see any fieldwork _ever_.

When he meets up with John, though, seriously contemplating asking him to allow Jemma to do whatever the hell she pleases, he gets offered a damn good solution on a silver platter: John is asking him to join a team, on a long-term mission, to help him gather intel that could very well be the solution to their problem, that could finally save his life.

“Look, son, I know that your girl would probably rather have you here—” John begins, and he’s probably prepared a speech about this – as if Grant needed that much convincing when it comes to saving his life anyway –, but he doesn’t need it.

“No, actually,” Grant interrupts, without bothering to mask how pleased he is. “I think this might be the solution to my— problem.”

John raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“Jemma figured out that we are behind the whole ‘no leaving’ thing.”

“She’s smart, you knew that.”

“Yeah. She’s pissed, obviously.” Grant licks his lips, hoping that this will work. “I still don’t want to let her go, but— you said Coulson is allergic to protocol? You think he’d be alright with a married couple on his team?”

John stares at him for a few seconds, registering what he just said, then he breaks into a grin. “I can definitely sell it to him.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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